


beneath these chipped and china limbs

by haipollai



Category: Captain America
Genre: Alternate Universe - Steampunk, M/M, Prostitution, Underage Sex, cross dressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-19
Updated: 2013-03-19
Packaged: 2017-12-05 19:19:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/726994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haipollai/pseuds/haipollai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The other girls and women treat him like a pet. They dress him up in their clothes and he watches them dance and seduce in the bar. The piano player, Sam slips him some coins sometimes but Bucky learns from one of the kitchen boys how to pick pockets. Most of the patrons are too drunk to notice and he finds if he puts on a skirt, they don't care how he presses against them.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>He earns his way at first by cleaning and working in the kitchens. By the time he's fifteen, he knows how to dance and move like the rest of Margaret's girls. He learns how to pleasure a woman with Natasha and Sharon and Barbara and he learns about men with Eli and Clint and once with Sam.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	beneath these chipped and china limbs

Matron Carter found him young, huddled in an alley because the army has little care for the orphans of their soldiers. He knows when she takes him that he'll have to pay her back one day, but he doesn't care. She feeds him and gives him a bed. 

He learns quickly that Matron Carter's brothel has a reputation for catering to the less standard clientele. Men who prefer men, women with women. Any variation thereof. She tells Bucky once how silly it is that people attempt to limit their own pleasure because of shared physiques.

The other girls and women treat him like a pet. They dress him up in their clothes and he watches them dance and seduce in the bar. The piano player, Sam slips him some coins sometimes but Bucky learns from one of the kitchen boys how to pick pockets. Most of the patrons are too drunk to notice and he finds if he puts on a skirt, they don't care how he presses against them.

He earns his way at first by cleaning and working in the kitchens. By the time he's fifteen, he knows how to dance and move like the rest of Margaret's girls. He learns how to pleasure a woman with Natasha and Sharon and Barbara and he learns about men with Eli and Clint and once with Sam.

They send him up onto the stage as a joke the first night. But there are so many offers, that he goes up the next night, Barbara finds a rich blue corset and Natasha gives him one of her older black skirts. He knows how to put on make up from a childhood of living among women whose livelihood comes from their looks. The kohl and rouge goes on easily and suddenly he's no longer an awkward boy. He doesn't really know what he is, but he's beautiful and men and women pay to take him to bed.

Bucky likes the dance, to see the men arguing if he's a boy or girl. What it would be like to fuck him, tear off the corset and skirt to get to skin underneath. He just laughs, let them talk and wonder. Maybe one of them will have the guts to even pay for a dance. Try to grope for a feel.

Most bow out, they'll mumble about a wife or a reputation. Bucky has never had a reputation to worry about. He doesn't understand how they can care so much about what people think. Everyone needs to relax.

Women are more subtle, hanging back and letting the men sit closer to the stage. They whisper together and cast speculative glances, trying to judge based on the curve of his lips and the set of his jaw. Natasha had given him a thick ribbon to tie around his neck to obscure his Adam's apple. Enough of an illusion to cause doubt. To make everyone whisper and wonder.

Sam changes the music, plays something more upbeat so Bucky decides to award a distinctly avid group with a high kick, giving them a glimpse under the taffeta and silks.

Bucky is fairly sure that one of them will be the high bidder for the night, or maybe even a few of them. But then his eye catches the blond by the bar and he grins. Until the music ends, he focuses his attention towards Steve.

When the music, he slips away from the stage and makes his way through the room to Steve. "You're back," he breathes, not sure what else to say. He's good with his body, but trying to talk comes harder.

Steve smiles and offers him a glass. Bourbon burns his throat and loosens his tongue. "Told you I would."

"Lots of men have difficulty keeping promises."

Bucky's memories of his parents are vague and distant, but he remembers a man promising to come home, dressed in the fine uniform of an officer. Or maybe he is only projecting Steve onto what he thinks his father looked like. Steve takes his hand and bows to press a kiss to his knuckles. "I am not most men."

"Quite obviously."

Steve smiles and doesn't release his hand. "May I employ you for tonight?"

Carol clears her throat, leaning over to interrupt them. "The Matron says tonight, if you're interested in our lovely Bucky, he's free. Just for you." A hint of a smirk plays over her lips. "Welcome back from the front, soldier."

Bucky presses closer, running his finger over the edge of Steve's pants, curling around a suspender. "Shall we head upstairs then?"

Steve lets out a soft sigh, his eyes following the lines of the corset's boning down to his hips. "It would be silly to waste such a gift." Bucky smiles wide and uses his grip on Steve's clothes to guide him away from the bar and up to his own room.

They've done this enough now, they have a rhythm. Steve's learned how to touch him, and while his hands slide under Bucky's skirts, Bucky unfastens Steve's suspenders. He gets his shirt and pants open and out of the way.

Steve stumbles back to a chair, and Bucky only pauses to grab a small vial of oil. Bucky slips into his lap, the corset cutting off his breathing just enough. Steve's hands rest on his hips, and as Bucky spreads the oil over his cock, he traces the edge of the corset over Bucky's chest using his lips and tongue. He bites down sharply at his collarbone as Bucky presses down.

Bucky's moans are louder then necessary but some habits die hard. Steve echoes them back against his skin, his fingers digging into his thighs. Bucky throws his head back and lets himself go.

-

Bucky sits up, leaning back against the wrought iron headboard, absently running his fingers through Steve's hair. He's not sure if Steve is asleep or not but it doesn't really matter, Bucky has nowhere else to be.

Steve moves slowly, rolling onto his side and curling a hand loosely around Bucky's ankle. His stockings are still on, catching on the calluses on Steve's thumb.

"You shave?" Steve murmurs.

"Better for the illusion."

Steve moves closer to press a kiss to Bucky's ankle. "You're beautiful."

Bucky laughs softly. "Thank you."

Steve reaches up, fingers sliding over Bucky's thigh until they find the clips to release his stockings, and slowly peels them off. Steve's breath in hot against his skin and Bucky has to swallow back his moan. "Why do you do this?"

"Do what?"

Steve's teeth scrape over his skin. "Dance. Fuck around." His hand stays on Bucky's leg but Bucky can't feel his mouth anymore. "You could be something."

Bucky laughs again but there's no soft sweet edge to it. "And what's wrong with it?" He rolls off the bed, away from Steve and his sweet touches. He's naked, except for the one stocking he still has one and with Steve's eye on him, he leisurely pulls that one off as well. "Does it make you feel dirty to love a whore? Do you go home hating yourself because this is all you have?" He runs his hands down his chest, stopping on his right thigh.

Steve's trying valiantly to not stare but fails over and over, his eyes sliding down Bucky's chest like a touch. "That's not it."

"Oh? Because clearly you don't think what I do is something. For a few hours I can give the men and women downstairs an escape from this shit world. You certainly never seemed to mind coming to my bed as long as payment was involved."

Steve stumbles out of bed, almost tripping himself on the tangled sheets. He's beautiful and Bucky desperately wishes he could kick him out but the words choke in his throat. So he stares up at him defiantly. Prepared for any judgment. "You're right, I do hate it, because I love you. I hate knowing that some nights you fuck other men. Or they fuck you." He cups Bucky's cheeks, tracing the line of his lips with a thumb. Bucky finds himself staring at Steve's lips, noticing the lipstick rubbed off of Bucky onto him. "I want you to be mine only. And I hate how selfish that makes me."

Bucky doesn't know what to say. He's had patrons profess their love before. Tell him how they want to whisk him away, protect him from this terrible terrible life. They tell him how he's too young for this, even with their come still in his ass.

Steve's hands drop away and Bucky realizes he's been silent too long. "You really do love me?" Steve smiles sadly which Bucky immediately decides is a bad look for him. "Will you stay? For a short while at least?"

"However long you want me."

Bucky gently nudges Steve back toward the bed, arranging them so they're curled up together. Eli knocks on the door with breakfast a few hours later. Bucky opens the door, not concerned with his nudity. Eli has worked there almost as long as Bucky, he's used to everything.

"From Matron Carter," he says with a wink, pushing the tray into Bucky's hands and practically whistling as he walks away. Bucky brings the tray back to the bed to find a plate of fruit under the lid as well as toast.

"Where did she get fruit?" Steve asks, watching in awe as Bucky carefully picks a strawberry and places it between his lips. With a wicked smirk, Bucky leans over and kisses Steve, pushing the fruit into his mouth and licking at his lips.

"She has connections. Barbara says that one of the ministers is her lovers but Sharon says it's something more simple. She knows who to pay." He shrugs, not caring much for what Margaret Carter does to keep them in business. She treats him well, better then most others like her. Everyone has heard the stories of Madame Masque and Lady Viper and their own brothels, of women beaten when they don't earn enough. People treated like the machines that fill up factory floors.

Bucky finds a piece of paper tucked under the plate of fruit with Steve's name written in the Matron's clear hand. He passes it over to Steve and continues picking at their breakfast. 

"She wants to see me."

Bucky sucks the fruit from a melon off his fingers, taking his time before plucking the note from him. There's nothing else on it but 'please see me before leaving.' No other hints or clues. "Well, she did give you the night free, I doubt she's going to ban you from the premises."

"Do you think she would?"

Bucky rolls his eyes at Steve's worry and leans over to kiss him again. His lips are sweet and buttery, Bucky only pulls back reluctantly. "No. If she wanted you out, she would be much more blunt about it. Come," he stands slowly and starts searching for Steve's clothes, scattered around the floor the previous night. "We can go together." Bucky dresses like a boy, there is some time left in the day before he has to prepare for later. The clothes itch but it makes going around the city easier.

He leads Steve to Margaret's office but a hard look from her says he won't be allowed to stay, so with a lingering touch, he lets himself out. He'll see Steve later though and hear all about it, he has no worry.

-

Sam rents a small apartment a few blocks away in what was once a one family brownstone. The factories brought in more people and the building had to be carved up. Sam was lucky, between his pay from the bar and the money he got hustling cards, he could afford a decent place.

Bucky lets himself in and follows the sound of dishes to the kitchen. He has always gone to Sam for advice and help.

"You eat?"

"Yes, sir."

Sam nods approvingly. "That soldier of yours promise to whisk you away yet?"

Bucky bites his lip and picks at a loose thread on his sleeve. "He hinted at it this morning."

Sam stops cleaning his dishes and reaches for the kettle instead. "You told him no." It's not question. Sam has helped raise him, taken him home and be the man Bucky could go to when he didn't know how to ask any of the women he was surrounded with.

"Sam I-" Sam cuts off his protest with a soft shake of his head. For a few minutes, he busies himself making tea and Bucky waits in silence.

"Don't go off with a soldier. That's how you got here." He sets a mug in front of Bucky and takes the seat across from him. "Watched you grow up, kid. No matter how wretched this city is, you're a part of it. It'd kill you to be elsewhere."

"What if he stayed?"

"A soldier who puts down roots? Then damn, keep him forever." Sam grins at him. He sets the mug down and reaches for a deck of cards. "Now, let's see if your card playing got any better."

-

Steve is sitting in the bar when Bucky comes back a few hours later. The place is already bustling, preparing for it's early evening opening. Steve's never been there so early in the day before. Carol is getting the bar set up and Bucky can see them talking. He slowly makes his way towards them, making sure that he's seen coming. He doesn't want to be a surprise.

"Good afternoon, handsome." Steve's hand rests on his hip comfortably but his expression is nervous. "Can we talk? Privately?"

Bucky glances at Carol but she just smiles, not giving anything away. "My room, I have to change." Steve follows him up, his hand staying on Bucky's side. He feels small next to Steve, small and fragile. He knows what Steve's calluses, formed from years working machines and whatever grueling training they sent him through in the army, feel like on his skin. He's felt Steve worship is own soft hands. No one wants a whore with calluses. At least not the people who visited Margaret Carter's establishment.

He makes a beeline for his wardrobe, letting Steve make himself comfortable. He has his own clothes now, no longer the cast offs from everyone else. A mirror hangs from one of the doors, a gift from Natasha. It's slightly warped and the glass is discolored but it's good enough to see what he looks like.

Right now, he can see Steve step up behind him, and lean down to drop a kiss on Bucky's neck.

"What did you want to talk about?" Bucky asks, starting to unbutton his shirt.

"Ms. Carter had a preposition for me." He takes Bucky's shirt and hangs it over a chair. "She's agreed to let me stay on and work for her as security. No one more going off to war, no more leaving you." Bucky pushes off his pants, leaving them crumpled on the floor. "If you want that."

"I-"

"She said if you don't want to sleep with anyone anymore, she understands. She wants you to still dance of course but-"

Bucky presses his fingers to Steve's lips to cut him off before he started rambling. "You'll get bored of me."

"I keep coming back to you for more then just the sex." Steve smiles shyly. "Even if it is really good."

"I believe you mean the best sex you ever had." He turns away from Steve to face his wardrobe again and picks out one of the corsets. One of his favorites, a rich blue with hints of silver. He had to save up for months to afford it. "Help me get dressed."

The garter and stockings come first and he sneaks glances at Steve through the mirror, watching him try to avoid staring. So Bucky exaggerates his movements, making Steve look. The skirt comes next, fitting over his hips. It's tied up in the front and dips low in the back so he can move freely. Steve smooths his hands over the fabric, his hands lingering on Bucky's thighs.

Then finally the corset. Bucky slips it on and gives Steve a pointed look in the mirror. Steve kisses his neck as his fingers find the laces, carefully tightening them from the top while his mouth moves down over Bucky's shoulder. He doesn't bite back his pleased sigh, dropping his head forward to put more skin in Steve's reach. Steve's fingers are deft and firm as he laces up the back. Tight enough it won't slip and adds curves where he doesn't have any, but he can still breathe. 

When he's done, they stand there, Steve's arms around his waist, his lips on his neck. Bucky's eyes slip half closed and he wonders if this is what it will always be like now. Steve there to help him dress. Bucky wonders if this is what being loved is supposed to feel like. No one else has made him feel like this before.

"I'm not done yet," he says, pulling away from Steve.

"What else do you have to do?" Steve asks, sounding genuinely confused. "You're beautiful."

Bucky gets his kohl stick and leaves a streak over Steve's cheek, grinning at Steve's shocked gasp. He tries to wipe it off but only smudges it. Bucky finally takes pity on Steve's pout and finds a cloth to wipe it away with. "There's a lot you need to learn," he tries to say it dismissively, to keep his smile up. He turns quickly back to the mirror to apply the makeup.

Steve wraps around Bucky from behind, his hand pressing flat over Bucky's stomach. "Are you going to educate me?"

"Enthusiastically. Every night even, since it seems I won't be taking on anymore customers." He thinks he hears Steve whispers 'mine' against his neck. Bucky's never belonged to anyone except Matron Carter. He's not sure if he likes the feeling yet.

But he likes Steve. He likes the way Steve holds him like he's special and never cared if the time he paid for was used with talking instead of fucking.

He was the first customer to use Bucky's name during sex. To call him Bucky even with the skirt on and the illusion in place.

"You should go," Bucky says softly. "Make sure Ms. Danvers doesn't need you."

"Of course, you're right. I'll see you-"

Bucky cuts him off with a quick kiss. "For luck," he explains. Steve grins, and pulls him in for another kiss but Bucky ducks his head out of the way. He reaches for his lipstick and applies it quickly, not caring about how it looks, he'll fix it later. "Now," he murmurs. Steve leans into kiss him again and when he pulls away, his lips are red from Bucky's lipstick. "Mine."

He's never belonged to anyone and he's never had anyone to call his own either. It's another new thing to get used to. Except Steve has a smile that soldiers shouldn't have, it sucks out Bucky's breath. Twists up his stomach. Intense in a way nothing else has ever felt.

"I should…" Steve mumbles, taking a reluctant step back. His hands never quite leave Bucky's hips.

"Yes, leave. You'll see me shortly." He turns authoritatively back to the mirror, watching in the warped reflection as Steve looks his fill before slipping out. With Steve gone, it takes no time to finish his makeup and finish getting ready.

Barbara is coming out of her room at the same time as him and she holds out an arm for him. "So are the rumors true? Of a new gentleman to keep the patrons from being rowdy?" She smirks, already knowing the answer.

"It's very true," Bucky grins back at her, realizing he's excited to step onto the stage. To follow the lead of Sam's music and Jessica's voice. Knowing Steve will be watching. "And I plan on giving him a very good show to welcome him."

**Author's Note:**

> title from Abney Park's Herr Drosselmayer's Doll  
> ahaha this got so much longer then it was supposed to


End file.
